


Disconnected

by ruffboi (awfulhospital)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ableism, Abuse, Mental Illness, Oneshot, Other, PTSD, Profanity, Trauma, idk yet, let's see where this goes, lots of swears, maybe hurt/comfort, some real sad shit, this is gonna be.. rly sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfulhospital/pseuds/ruffboi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave has a flashback and Sad Times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disconnected

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Get Up" on Homestuck Vol.5 of the Homestuck soundtrack, since it always struck me as a sad Dave song. Also inspired by my personal struggle with mental illness and the fact that I'm kin with Dave.  
> \--  
> WARNINGS:  
> \- lots of swears  
> \- child abuse  
> \- flashbacks  
> \- graphic violence  
> \- physical abuse  
> \- verbal abuse  
> \- guilt  
> \- ableism

"Get up."

Dave coughed once, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up. He winced at the sound of his own voice as he coughed again and attempted to respond with a feeble, "Yes, Bro." Too loud, too loud,  _too fucking loud._ He was always talking too fucking loudly; if he could actually make himself quieter, stronger, less of a goddamn  _disappointment_ all the time then maybe. Maybe he wouldn't have to deal with this. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten a caretaker that fucking hated him. Maybe he wouldn't have to "train" constantly for some kind of shitty apocalyptic self-defense.

Then again, maybe he was just complaining too much. Maybe he was just a whiny fucking brat that deserved this shit.

"I said to fucking get up. Are you gonna make me stand around and wait for your lazy ass all day ya little shit?" This statement - not a question but a statement, he knew - was punctuated by a sharp jab in the side by a large, booted foot. The man looked down at Dave scathingly, dragging his large metal blade along the ground as he approached him. "You can't be that hurt. I only got one good hit in, and it wasn't even that deep; so stop being so goddamn melodramatic and just get the  _fuck up_."

Dave nodded as he pushed himself off the ground with more than a little difficulty. It wouldn't be any use to argue with him; if he tried to defend himself, he was making excuses. If he was injured, he should suck it up. If he felt like shit, he was just being difficult. Standing up, he gripped the cheap sword in his left hand, ignoring the stinging pain in a gash along his forearm.  _Fuck_ , that hurt. He'd have to switch to his non-dominant hand and eventually concede defeat. There was no way he'd be able to win against his  _Bro_ , especially with his good arm all fucked up. _  
_

Bro smirked as he took a few deep breaths and tried to steady himself. Without warning, he lunged forward, katana barely grazing his right shoulder. Dave froze up, shaking and gripping his sword more tightly.  _Shit shit shit he actually meant to kill him what the hell how would he get out of this how was John going to deal with him being dead? Or Rose? Or Jade?_

"What's wrong? Ya seen a ghost, boy? Your ghost?" Bro laughed cruelly, shoving Dave with his free hand and causing him to stumble backward. "'Cause you're fuckin' dead, kiddo."

Bro punctuated this with another shove, Dave falling backward and hitting his head on the hot concrete.

Ringing. There was so much ringing in his ears. He couldn't tell if the liquid on his forehead and cheeks was blood or tears. Maybe both. He curled his arms and legs in protectively toward his chest.  _Make it stop make it stop make it stop stopstopstopstopsotsptopstopstopsdplseasetstop_. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He needed to get the fuck out of there. He needed to leave. He needed to die. He needed to stop being a fucking failure.

Bro laughed again, nudging Dave's leg with his foot again. "Alright, playtime's over. Time to get up and actually try instead of that weak shit you were pullin' on me."

He flinched at the contact and attempted to pull himself closer in on himself, holding his breath so his sobs would be quieter. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could actually make himself invisible.

Bro frowned and nudged him again. "Didn't you hear me? Or are you fucking deaf, too? Fucking brat." Not getting an immediate response, his face screwed up in anger.

"Are you fucking ignoring me, you lazy piece of shit? If you don't get up right the fuck now, there's gonna be serious consequences. I'm not fucking playing." No response. "Do you think you're too fucking good for me? You're too good to have to answer me when I ask you a simple question? Who the  _hell_ do you think you are? Because I'm not having any of this moody teenager bullshit. You either stand up with your two fucking perfectly functional legs  _right now_ _, or you tell me what the shit you think you're doing_."

Dave silently shook, unable to move or speak. _  
_

Another kick, less gentle than the first one.

" _Fucking answer me_ _when I speak to you_."

Another kick, this one aimed at his back.

" _You useless fucking mistake_."

Another kick.

" _Can't you do anything right?_ "

Kick.

" _No-_ "

Kick.

" _-fucking-_ "

Kick.

"- _respect._ " _  
_

" _I should've left you in that crater._ "

The kicking had stopped, but this hurt more than any blow Dave could have taken. He slowly turned and looked up at Bro, squinting in the bright sunlight surrounding him. No, not sunlight... it looked too artificial to be the sun... and the silhouette of the person looking down at him was too small, not angular enough to be Bro.... They seemed to be mouthing something.

"-ave! DAVE! Are you okay?"

Dave rubbed his eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the harsh, fluorescent white lights of his room on the meteor and Karkat, frowning in concern, came into focus.

"I heard you crying from out in the hallway so I came in here to check on you.... Are you alright? Or do you have some kind of fever? Your forehead's all sweaty and I've had enough experience with gross sweaty people for one lifetime," he explained, helping Dave sit up. _Ah. It was sweat, not blood._

"Jus'a b'dream," Dave mumbled, swallowing against the dryness of his throat. He blearily reached for his shades, absentmindedly wiping his forehead on the back of his sleeve. "'M fine."

Karkat stared at him, still frowning. "You're not fucking fine, asshole. You were  _crying_." Dave groaned internally as Karkat went on. "I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

Dave forced out a short laugh, still reeling from the vividness of the nightmare.  _It was just a dream_ , he reminded himself. "Thanks but no thanks, Shouty. I've got enough of a headache already without your freight-train snore keeping me up the rest of the night. Or any other part of you."

Karkat's frown quickly morphed to that of an angry toddler about to throw a tantrum. "Listen, dipshit, I'm not gonna let you sit here and lie to my fucking face and tell me that you're fine. I'm sleeping on the floor of your goddamn block and you're not going to stop me. End of discussion."

Dave rolled his eyes, but laid back down without complaint.  _Love you too, Karks._


End file.
